Shardless
by Evil AJ
Summary: 1shot. Just a fic that I felt like writing before school starts. Please R&R. Rated for violence and brief adult themes.


Disclaimer: I do not own Warcraft or anything that righteously belongs to Blizzard. However, I do own my character, as I pay $15 a month for him.

**Shardless**

Aterius couldn't help but gape at the beauty before him. She was absolutely breathtaking. She had long, black hair that greatly reminded him of the ravens he had seen during his adventures. Her frame was slender, yet with all the curves in exactly the right places. All of this visual perfection, and she was looking at him. Surely, this had to be a dream? Aterius had had many night elf women hit on him and sure, he knew he looked good, but whenever he had seen anything even close to the sexiness of the creature standing before him, why…he could only sit back and dream of pleasing them. But this one wanted him. Her eyes bore into his, begging him…begging him to take her. She drew closer and the temptation was becoming far too great for him. He had to have this woman - he had to have her no matter what…

All the while he was admiring this creature of unimaginable beauty, Aterius didn't hear the demonic whispers behind him. He didn't hear what sounded like a volcanic eruption right behind him. And when it came, it was all too quick for him to even realize what had happened. The gigantic fireball hit him with the force of a thousand boulders, sending him flying a hundred yards and, though he was dead at this point anyway, hurled him into one of the nearby houses desecrated by the scourge.

Lorthias smiled at his accomplishment, which was yet another dead night elf. He called Elerrah back to him, and she did exactly as she was commanded before fading into the shadows, away from the visibility of anyone who didn't have eyes in the dark…like he did. He looked around him and took in the scene. Everything seemed much darker through the eerie eye sockets of his nemesis skullcap, but the situation remained clear. The scourge in the house he had just sent the night elf hunter into were now probably feasting on his dead remains. The scourge…another problem for Lorthias to deal with, and one he certainly was bored with.

Demonic energies encircled him, they seemed to revolve around him as the earth does the sun. Suddenly, he rose his hand up high into the air and a demonic looking steed emerged before him. The steed's eyes burned with fire, which were only slightly revealed by the horse helm that it wore. It had demonic horns emerging from its head right to the very end if its neck. Lorthias mounted the magnificent steed before taking off with blinding speed.

He didn't know what to do or where to go now, for his mind was filled with nothing but the idea of mindless killing. He knew there were more, for he could smell the blood flowing through their veins…something that he simply _had_ to stop. As he continued to ride, he noticed something amiss. Members of the scourge who normally harassed him as he went down this path were now absent, and as he observed his surroundings more closely he could see their dead, rotting bodies scattered about. He dismissed his steed back to the nether and slowly began to look around.

It wasn't long after he dismounted that he suddenly felt his mouth seal itself shut and found his hands unable to move. He whipped around, only to be tackled by a demonic hound. The hound clawed and whipped at him, until finally he felt his hands come free and threw the demonic menace off of him. Rising to his feet swiftly, he chanted a spell and the demon suddenly froze right where it was, surrounded by an invisible prison. He called Elerrah to his side, only to realize that she too had suffered the same fate as the demon who had attacked him, only by another. Lorthias turned around to face the controller of the demon. It was a little gnome, barely reaching up to Lorthias' knees. He wore a dark mask over his face and wore robes that looked like they had been especially made to fit his pint sized body.

It wasn't long before dark energy began surrounding the little gnome's hands and Lorthias could already tell what was coming. He surrounded himself with a dark shield, which completely engulfed the enormous bolt of shadow energy that had been flying towards him. He immediately countered, all the while smiling. He could tell that while this gnome may had been experienced in shadow magic and demonology, the tiny warlock was no match for his superior skill and power. Before he could act, the gnome found himself engulfed with agonizing flames, setting his clothes on fire and burning his skin. After that, he found himself blasted backwards by several smaller yet still undoubtedly painful blasts of fire. The pain was agonizing, but the little gnome knew he had to do something if he was to live. He began to cast his spell that had never failed to get him out of life and death situations, one that would twist the opponent's mind to make him think that the warlock was more terrifying than anything else in the entire world.

His attempt was in vein. Lorthias was undead. He had already experienced death and there was nothing more to fear…not even a second death. Quickly searching for a last desperate attempt for survival, the gnome found himself ultimately damned by a whip curling around his neck and hurling him from the ground. He looked at his captor and immediately recognized it as a succubus, who was now holding him by the collar of his robes, the blood of his now deceased felhunter dripping from her whip. Still on fire, the gnome cried out for assistance. Assistance from the alliance, assistance from the horde, assistance from the scourge, it didn't matter as long as they could save him from this monster.

Lorthias came up close the gnome's face and in his sickly, serpent-like voice said, "Ugth trat, tragth yeera. Leey desama enumey clarien nayt gema." The gnome warlock could not understand gutterspeak, the native tongue of the forsaken, but Lorthias used his fel energies to transfer the meaning directly into the little gnome's so-called intellectual brain.

"_Funny, I thought gnomes were supposed to be intelligent. I guess using shadow magic against another like you and trying to make the damned flee in terror don't count."_

It was the last thing in the gnome's mind before the flames engulfed him completely and all that was left was a scorched image of what he formerly was. Lorthias wanted to take this time to fully embrace his victory, but soon felt a sharp object rip through the little flesh that he had on his back.

Falling forwards but quickly recovering into a roll and standing upright, Lorthias faced his new attacker. It was a night elf who, judging by his surprisingly similar appearance, was most likely related to the one he had killed not too long ago. The night elf rose his mighty axe high and ran at him with intensive rage. Lorthias sighed calmly and ordered Elerrah to do her work.

The mighty warrior began to focus on Elerrah for a split second, but immediately snapped out of it and continued his assault on the undead warlock who had killed his kin. Annoyed, Lorthias threw out his hand and a shiny, violet colored diamond appeared in his hand. The diamond soon disappeared and was replaced by a shadowy aura which engulfed the night elf warrior in a shadowy flame.

Suddenly, Lorthias felt a claw-like object strike him in the side of the face, tearing his flesh and nearly smashing his undead skull. He flew forwards and quickly rose to his feet again, only to feel two extremely sharp daggers impale him through the back. Three night elves…all come to take revenge on their dead brethren. The night elf in bear form and the warrior advanced on him to deliver the killing blow, but before they could Lorthias' eyes glowed a dark shade of purple and he opened his disoriented jaw and let out a terrible, blood-curdling scream of unparalleled madness. The scream sounded so dreadful, all three night elves couldn't help but hold their hands over their ears and run to get away from it.

Lorthias turned back to the coward who had more than likely been stalking him from the shadows this entire time and with one swift wave of his hand, the rogue was put into a horrible, gut-wrenching agony that was slowly but surely killing him. He didn't stop there. Another wave from his hand and the pathetic night elf was put in twice the pain he was previously in. He turned and saw the warrior and the druid, who had now untransformed for a split second to reveal her feminine features and vainly attempting to heal her dying rogue brother. Lorthias quickly put a stop to that by having Elerrah come out of the shadows and strike the poor druid right in the back.

Then Lorthias turned his attention to the warrior who was charging him. He smiled and sent a shadowy blast at the warrior, sending him back a few yards. It sent agonizing shivers through the warrior's body and he noticed that many of Lorthias' recently inherited wounds were now healed. Filled with even more rage, the warrior charged Lorthias, not caring that he had just been cursed to slowly feel the same kind of pain his rogue brother was feeling.

Lorthias snarled and held out his hand. "It's over!" he yelled to the elves he knew couldn't understand him. But something was wrong…nothing appeared in Lorthias hands and he looked at his right hand in horror.

"No more shards…."

Lorthias felt himself get clawed and ripped apart by both axe and the claws of a ferocious animal. They tore him up, literally from the inside out. What remained of his organs was now splattered on the ground next to him, his bones broken in too many places to name, and his jaw had ultimately been removed as a result of the slashing and hacking from the two vengeful night elves.

As he lay there, feeling his last death come upon him, he heard the female night elf crying for her two brothers as one had died and the other one was slowly dying. She tried to heal him, but to no avail as the warlock's dark magic slowly ate him up. He heard the male night elf, on the brig of death, gather a wad of saliva and snot in the back of his throat and spit on what was left of Lorthias' face. Then, the mighty warrior fell beside his killer and slowly felt his death come to him, his helpless sister crying tragically on his fallen form. And then…it happened. Lorthias smiled.

He remembered what he had used his last soul shard for.

A glowing light emitting from his fallen form, Lorthias suddenly rose again, healed of every single wound except for his lost jaw. The druid looked up at him in horror as he grabbed her by the collar and brought her up to meet his gaze. Not sparing a second for her to transform, Lorthias impaled his hand into the elf's abdomen. The night elf screamed out in shock and pain as a dark blue light emitted from where the ruthless undead's hand had penetrated her. She could feel the very life, the very essence which filled her being, begin to be drained out of her. When it all was done, Lorthias had formed a violet colored shard in his hand and held it up to the elf's viewing.

"Guess even we more experienced ones make mistakes sometimes. Me running out of soul shards, I feel like that stupid gnome now."

And Lorthias dropped the motionless body and unsheathed his sword, stabbing her in the throat and ending her life once and for all. His dreadsteed appeared before him once again and he mounted it, leaving the three dead bodies to later be consumed by the scourge.

Though he was cocky, Lorthias knew that was too close of a call. Sure, he wasn't afraid of dying, but the idea of being killed by the living was appalling to him. And he made a mental note to be much more conservative in the future, for next time he knew he wouldn't be so lucky if he ended up shardless.

_Fin_

A/N: Yeah, so you've just read a warlock pvp turned into a fanfiction. And for those of you who are just gonna tell me something like, "Just join an RP server you loser" can all diaf. I don't play on an rp server, don't plan to. I just felt like I should do something that I wanted to do before school starts so here it is. R&R please, it'll make me love you forever.


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